Yippeesizedifgohard - Yet ANOTHER G/t Sideblog - Tumblr Blog

IM BEGGING YOU FOR THE NEXT PART OF HOW DID EZ AND MIKE MEET 😭🙏

🏃‍♂️💨IM HERE! IM HERE NOW!! SORRY FOR THE DELAY YALL!! LETS GET INTO THIS >:]

Mike and Ez Origins: pt 4

Ez lunged at Mike before he could escape

they're each other's mama now💖

first || Prev

TAGLIST: @goblinunderabridge@gt-newbie@smolcomfycat@da3dm@mouzeinsoup@xoxohihi@freshcube@tineylittledude @tinybitz@dragoncookbook @areallycoolanduniqueusername

If you post g/t or follow the g/t tag please interact with this post in someway so I can follow you. I need to know all of the peeps so I can collect them like a g/t infinity gauntlet

Pls Reblog so that I can follow as many people as possible the goal is constant g/t on my feed :)

hug a giant day !!!

this is just a collection of small little blurbs from my favorite characters i've written!

Rehabilitation (featuring Oliver and Goosefoot)

Oliver was coming home from a long night shift at his janitorial job. He hardly got to see his brother anymore, and he hated it.

"I'm...I'm not what he needs. He needs a father and a mother, not a brother." He admitted to Miss Goosefoot one early morning.

"You're doing the best you can," She said, side hugging his wrist. "Carter knows that."

The Date (featuring Ezra and Sal)

It had been a month or so since the date, and Ezra was excited to go to work. Sal was fairly used to him now, and a few others at the office liked him too. It had taken a lot of work, but he was happy to know that people weren't terrified of him anymore.

The morning was slow, as nobody needed to give anything to anyone else, but eventually the Boss called him in and said he needed to deliver a note to Sal. Ezra had smiled and accepted the task with a nod, quickly heading straight to Sal's office. He had to remind himself not to blush too much, as there was no way Sal would ever like him that way, especially not after the disaster of that very first date. However, he was still excited to see them again.

"Sal, the Boss had a note for you," he said, smiling through the balcony window.

"I know," Sal said, a smile on their voice. They came out onto the balcony and looked as though they were up to something instantly. "Do you want me to read it to you?" They asked, holding back a laugh. Ezra scratched the back of his neck with one hand, and offered Sal the note with the other.

"Um, am I going to regret-!" He gasped as her felt Sal wrap their small arms around his finger. He blushed hard, fingers trembling lightly before he let out a soft exhale. "May...May I pick you up for a proper one?" Sal nodded with a smile. Ezra delicately plucked them up and brought them close to his heavily beating heart and he tried not to smother them into his chest so much.

"Thank you." He said, holding them close.

Best Friends (featuring Simon and Nikki)

Nikki was still small, as it had only been a few hours since Simon had used the gun on her. He had brought her to his house during that time, regretting the fact that his desk and floor were a mess. Nikki hadn't said much, but Simon had certainly thought a lot. He was mostly circling one thought, why don't you ever think before you act?

"Uh, Simon?" Nikki asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Are you going to set me down anywhere?" Simon cringed, hating the thought that maybe Nikki was thinking of all the ways he could hurt her. He set her down on the desk quickly, before sitting in his chair.

"I need to figure out a way to get you back to normal." He remarked, wishing he could go back in time and fix everything. "But...I don't..." He sighed, dropping his head on the desk, causing Nikki to jump. He groaned into the wood, eyes starting to burn. That was, until there was a soft touch to the side of his head. He turned slowly to see that it was Nikki hugging the side of his head.

"Look, we'll find a way out of this, okay?"

MASTERPOST

LOOOOOOOORE

LINEAR STUFF

Rehabilitation (ft Carter, Oliver, Goosefoot, and Thimbleweed)

Plush

Grit

Prologue (to the main story)

(COMING SOON) Read the Signs (ft Caleb, Snakeweed, and Pix)

ONE-SHOTS (may be subject to becoming two shots)

The Date (will they? won't they? I don't know, but one of 'em seems scared!)

Best Friends (reckless boy meets quiet girl. what happens when recklessness leads to trouble?)

grit (gt july day 6)

Thimbleweed had grit.

Not because they were courageous, necessarily, but because they had a set goal in mind.

A goal that needed to be accomplished, or else they would die.

Thimbleweed was trapped in a human house they despised with a human they despised even more. The human in question was cruel. He kept them in a cage. A cage they would escape.

No matter what it took.

(this is very very short, but there is a reason for that. i dont wanna give away too much too quickly for the linear story.)

Plush (day 3 of gt July)

Carter loved his teddy bear, just as any other eight year old would love the plush they cuddled to sleep at night. But, after he had brought it to school, a rip had formed at one of the seams.

"Oliver, Bartholomew has a rip!" He whined to his big brother the morning following the incident.

"I told you it was a bad idea for you to bring it to school." Oliver tutted, pouring milk into the younger boys cereal bowl. Carter harrumphed with exaggeration. Oliver set down his breakfast, then sat across from.his little brother. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can't you fix it?" Carter asked, fiddling with his spoon in his cereal. "You have all that thread and the pointy thingy." Oliver smiled warmly, trying not to laugh.

"Alright, I promise it'll be all fixed when you come back home." Oliver said, grabbing his little brother's backpack. "Do you want me to walk you to school, or do you want to go with Ray and her mom?" Carter pushed out from the table and scampered to get his backpack.

"I wanna walk with Ray!" He said, excited. "Please." He added, remembering the conversation they had about being polite. Oliver opened the door.

"Okay kid, you have a good day!" He called as Carter rushed to catch up with his friend.

"Bye!" Carter yelled back. "I love you!"

Once Oliver closed the door, he knocked on the wall.

"Miss Goosefoot? Would you mind helping me out?" That was the thing Carter didn't know about the needles and thread. They weren't exactly for human use. Oliver had no idea how to sew.

Soon enough, a small woman in a dark pink dress emerged from the walls, still putting her brown hair up in a bun. Her tail flicked and her long ears perked up as she approached, walking on the countertop of the kitchen.

"What would you like me to help with?" She asked nicely. Oliver offered her a hand to stand on.

"Carter's bear has a rip." He admitted. "I was hoping you had the time to fix it?" Miss Goosefoot nodded.

"I haven't got a groundling in the program at the moment, so you grab that radio and some thread and we'll make a day of it." She winked, stepping onto his hand and sitting down gracefully. Oliver smiled, carrying her to his bedroom and dropping her off next to his alarm clock, which doubled as a radio. Once Miss Goosefoot hit the button on the side, he went off to grab the bear and thread.

When he returned, he sat at his desk right in front of Miss Goosefoot. Once she was settled and found the right position to sew up the bear, which was about five times her height, he pulled out his laptop.

"You wouldn't happen to have any advice for a resume, would you?" He asked, glancing at her.

"Well, I can't exactly write your letter of recommendation, but I do know that you are most likely qualified for whatever you wish to do." She said, threading the needle with ease. "I'm just glad you finally quit that janitorial job. I did miss you, you know. Can't blame an old lady for not staying up until midnight." She joked.

"Yeah, at this point I just want a decent paying job without being on the nightshift. Carter didn't like that much either." He sighed, propping up his head on his hand. During that time, Oliver almost never saw his brother. It was breakfast, dinner, and then he had to leave. Carter hated it, especially because he couldn't fall asleep without someone else in the house.

"Ah, yes, I remember." Miss Goosefoot replied without looking up from her stitching job. She tied the last knot and finished it off cleanly. "I just about revealed myself when he woke up crying that one night." Oliver clicked something on his computer.

"I know, and again I'm sorry you felt like you had to-"

"Oliver. You know I'm perfectly fine with humans. You and Carter don't scare me." She looked at him.

"I-I know that." He paused, closing his computer with a sigh upon realizing he wasn't going to get much job hunting done. "I'm just worried about his reaction to meeting groundlings." He ruffled his hair. "He doesn't know how to be gentle yet, I can't let him hurt anybody and he certainly can't start seeking you out, what if you have a patient and they get spooked because he started calling out for you? I refuse to jeopardize your work." Miss Goosefoot was silent.

"I appreciate all that you do for me and my patients, but maybe it would be good for Carter to learn about all of this?" She asked, not saying exactly what she wanted to, which was: If not now, then when will you let him learn?

"Not today. Probably not tomorrow either. I promise I'll find a good time, and I'll teach him."

When Carter came home, Oliver was waiting for him with Bartholomew in his hands. Carter was happy the bear was fixed.

And Miss Goosefoot was happy that her humans were happy.

prologue

Miss Helga Goosefoot was a groundling from all over. She had been from the wild, until her family moved into human suburbs when they began to take over their home. When she was a rebellious teenager, she had dubbed herself the name of Helga and ran off to the city. But now, she was a far more relaxed, older groundling. She now resided in a calm human home in which her safety was guaranteed. Her name was known to many by now, most groundlings referring to her as Miss Goosefoot.

But why was she so famous?

Well, that would be because of her rehabilitation program.

Because of the guaranteed safety in her house, many groundlings sought out her home after being discovered or getting injured. She would help them, for however long it took, until they were ready to move on to a new house or back out into the wild.

But the thing that made her house so safe wasn't that, perhaps, it lacked humans.

No.

It simply contained two of the nicest ones she had ever come across.

But no one else had to know that.

♡ GT July 2024 Prompt List ♡

g/t prompts

how a borrower might be caught

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

1. tangled in their climbing rope

2. their home sniffed out by a dog/cat

3. sneezing too loud

4. falling into a sink, unable to climb out

5. sticky mousetrap

6. falling asleep in a human’s shirt pocket

7. lost their hook, left stranded on a counter

8. trying to watch a movie with the human

9. accidentally breaking a glass in the middle of the night

10. spilling flour/sugar all over the kitchen counter

11. singing along to the human’s music

12. setting off the fire alarm

13. choosing to reveal themselves because they need help (medicine, heat, etc.)

Broken

The first time Dalton shrinks in front of Bennett. The experience leaves him injured and mistrusting of Bennett, who doesn't quite understand what he's done wrong.

tw: anxiety, uncomfortable touching

character context: Dalton is a size-shifter whose height is affected by his emotions. Bennett frequently gets stuck in time loops and the only way to get the loop to end is for him to survive the day.

word count: 2.1k

-> In Which Everything Goes Wonderfully Wrong masterpost link: Here

-> character introductions and moodboards: Here

Dalton felt an itch begin to spread across his skin. It started on his chest and it felt like his heart was being squeezed. He took in a sharp breath, gaining the attention of Bennett. His eyes snapped over to him.

“You okay?”

The itch was spreading, moving down his arms and his legs. Not now, not now, Dalton thought, his heartbeat spiking. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath.

Bennett was staring at him with concern, briefly glancing around the library to see if anyone else had noticed his panic. Dalton’s hands were on both sides of his head and he was bent over the table. 

He had to focus. Swallow down the itch. This could not happen right now, not in a crowded place like this. Not in front of Bennett. 

Bennett reached a hand out to him. “Dude, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

The unexpected touch on Dalton’s arm pulled him out of his concentration, and he felt himself drop down a couple of inches. Once it started, there was no containing the shift in size. Without a word, Dalton stood from the table and rushed to the nearest aisle of bookshelves. 

It was just his luck, Dalton thought. The university library was a horrible place for him shrink down. What was worse, was that it was happening in front of Bennett. He had only just met the guy a couple days ago, and he was one of the only two people that knew about his abilities. Rory had left them alone for just a measly few minutes to go and find a book she needed, and now she wouldn’t be around while Dalton was small and unprotected.

He reached an isolated corner in the back of the library—just in time, too—and Dalton felt the world shift before his eyes as his stomach dropped. He fell to his knees in an attempt to lessen the temporary vertigo. With labored breaths, Dalton looked up, seeing the shelves tower high above his head. He was about half the height of a regular-sized novel right now, and he was out in the open for anyone to see. Anxiety gripped at his throat. 

Thundering footsteps caught his attention, and without a moment’s hesitation, he sprinted to the nearest bookshelf in an effort to conceal himself. 

Bennett slowly came down the aisle. “Dalton?” he called, “Where’d you go?”

Dalton shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t reveal his hiding space. He’d never been around Bennett small. He would be completely at his mercy. He had no idea how Bennett would react. 

Then again, Dalton was in the middle of a public library at his university. Anybody could find him, and when he was this vulnerable there would be nothing he could do if they decided to do anything to him.

His safest option would be with Bennett, no matter how unfamiliar that territory is.

Dalton peeked his head out from his hiding place. “I—I’m here,” he called. He hated how his voice trembled.

Bennett’s eyes shot down to the ground, and Dalton watched in anxiety-riddled silence as he waited for Bennett to spot him. 

He hated the fascination that took over Bennett’s features when their eyes locked. Dalton couldn’t help but to take a couple of steps back as Bennett lowered himself to the floor. 

“Holy shit!” A smile crept onto Bennett’s face. “You’re so little.”

Dalton flinched at the volume of his voice, stumbling back a couple more steps. He was nearly totally concealed by the shadows of the bookshelf, and frankly, he felt much safer in there. Even if Bennett hadn’t done anything, he couldn’t help that his flight instinct was screaming at him to run. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dalton told him, his own voice hushed. 

“What was that?” Bennett asked, leaning forwards. “I can hardly hear you.”

He was close. He was too close. “Step back,” Dalton said, voice brittle. He held out a hand as if that would do anything. 

Dalton couldn’t pinpoint the expression that painted Bennett’s face at his words, but he didn’t like the way his eyes softened. “Hey, man,” Bennett said, “it’s just me.”

Yeah, no shit. Dalton did not know Bennett. They had only just met. He had no idea how Bennett would act around him at this size. “I need you to go get Rory,” Dalton told him.

“Why? What’s she going to do that I can’t?”

She would know how Dalton was feeling. Her abilities made sure of that. And even though he would never wish this kind of anxiety on his worst enemy, having someone know exactly what was going through his mind would be better at handling him small compared to someone that Dalton only knew as… sporadic.

“No—nothing,” Dalton responded, too stressed to argue. “Just, we need to get out of here. Like, right now.”

“Okay,” Bennett nodded. “I can handle that.”

He reached out a hand and scooped Dalton into a fist. 

The claustrophobia was immediate. Dalton felt like he was being squeezed—no, he was being squeezed—and the air was quickly stolen from his lungs. His ribs felt like they were going to shatter. He was going to tell Bennett that he was holding him too tight, but his world was lurched forwards as they took a giant step forward. 

Dalton wanted to yell, wanted to demand that Bennett put him back down because he regretted his request to leave immediately, but the fear of being heard (or worse, seen) by others made him keep his mouth shut. 

“I’m gonna put you in my hoodie pocket,” Bennett said as they approached the table they had been working at. “So, I can grab our stuff.”

Without warning he was shoved into his front hoodie pocket. Dalton fought an unmanly yelp as he scrambled for purchase in the fabric.

It was hot, it was tight, it was moving, and there was nothing Dalton could do about it. Where was Bennett taking him? Was he going to tell Rory what was happening? Or would Dalton be stuck with Bennett alone until he was able to grow to his normal size?

The walk felt much too long, or much to short, Dalton couldn’t decide. Bennett’s calloused hands found their way around him again, and Dalton was forced back out into the open. His head spun as Bennett adjusted him right-side up, and Dalton was then—rather carelessly—dropped onto a hard surface. He hit hard, not prepared for the drop, and fell on his side, a hard ough! escaping his lips on impact. He propped himself up on one elbow as he took in his surroundings, afraid to find out where Bennett had taken him.

He was in a dorm room, and Dalton could only guess it was Bennett’s. It was messy—clothes scattered on the floor, loose papers sprawled across the surface of the desk—and as he looked around it seemed that Bennett caught on to what he was thinking.

“Uh, sorry about the mess.” He began to pick up his clothes and throw them into his wardrobe. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”

Dalton, finally free from his fabric prison, took this moment to catch his breath. Not being Bennett’s center of attention and being high off the floor was a lot better than what had happened to him so far.

He couldn’t bring himself to stand just yet. His stomach was still lurching from the jostling movements and his legs were weak with anxiety. Dalton watched Bennett shove his clothing into his wardrobe with enough force to snap Dalton in half at this size if Bennett felt like it. He needed to get up, needed to put himself somewhere he felt a little safer. 

Dalton sat up, the pain around his ribs almost immediate. They felt bruised—maybe worse—and Dalton knew instantly that coming here was a bad idea. He should have known that Bennett was just too curious about his abilities, and that nothing good could come from this little unwanted adventure. 

Bennett sat down at his desk, towering over Dalton’s pitiful form.

“So, now what?” Bennett asked, harshly propping his elbow up on the desk and cradling his chin in his hand. “How do we make you big again?”

Dalton swallowed thickly as he looked up at Bennett, unable to hold eye contact any longer before he forced his head to look back down. “Time,” he choked out. 

Bennett hummed, the fingers of his free hand appearing out of nowhere and grabbing hold of one of Dalton’s arms. His forearm was pinched between two fingers, squeezed just a little too tight. He was then forced to turn his arm over as Bennett examined his too-small limb. “What are you doing?” Dalton asked him, forcing his voice not to tremble.

“Just looking at you,” Bennett answered. “You’re just so small it’s actually insane.”

There was a lump in Dalton’s throat. “Please—please let go.”

“Relax, dude. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

It was too late for that, Dalton wanted to say. But he kept his mouth shut and let Bennett continue to gawk at him. He just prayed that he got bored soon. 

“Your hands are so tiny,” Bennett said. “They’re like the size of my fingertip.” 

His fingers moved down the length of Dalton’s arm, pinching his hand as he marveled at Dalton’s size. Bennett chuckled. “I can’t help but to laugh,” Bennett told him, “this is just so crazy.”

He then yanked on his arm and Dalton lurched forward. His ribs screamed with pain and without a hand to catch himself with, Dalton rolled sideways onto his shoulder. He hit the surface of the desk with an oof.

“Sorry, man.” Bennett was still chuckling, oblivious to Dalton’s discomfort. “I just…” His voice trailed off. “Wow.” 

With each prod and poke and unintentional careless action, Dalton felt more and more broken. Tears began to well in his eyes—tears that Bennett didn’t notice due to his curiosity that overpowered his sensitivity—and a sob caught in his throat. 

Dalton bit his lip, struggling with the internal conflict of wanting Bennett to understand and fearing his own vulnerability. Fear left him frozen where he fell, head and shoulder pressed against the hard surface of the desk. Bennett’s touch never relinquished.

As Bennett’s finger lingered on his side, Dalton’s breath hitched, the ache in his ribs intensifying. He wanted to speak up, to tell Bennett to be more careful, but fear held his tongue. 

A finger ran down the length of Dalton’s side with the intention to forcefully lift him from his spot on the desk. Finally, a single tear rolled down Dalton’s cheek. A choked sob escaped through his lips, and Bennett’s touch froze in its place. 

Dalton swallowed hard, his whole-body tensing as Bennett’s finger pressed against his bruised ribs again. “Bennett, please,” Dalton managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

Bennett paused, noticing the fear in Dalton’s eyes. “Oh,” he said quickly, withdrawing his hand. “Did I hurt you?”

Dalton nodded silently, his chest tight with anxiety. 

“I—I’m sorry.” Bennett was cupping his hands together, holding them close to his chest. “I didn’t realize.”

Dalton didn’t move for a few long moments. He allowed himself to cry. To grieve for a loss of normalcy that he hadn’t realized he lost. He waited for the stinging sensation in his ribs to mellow out enough for him to sit up, to look at Bennett with red, tear-stained eyes and demand that he go and get Rory so this nightmare can come to an end. 

Bennett was already crying. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I wasn’t thinking and—”

“That’s the problem,” Dalton replied bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t think.”

A silence settled between them, thick and heavy with unspoken words. 

“I’m so sorry, Dalton,” Bennett finally said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ll try to do better. Next time—”

“There is no next time,” Dalton interrupted. “Please, just call Rory.”

Without a word, Bennett turned away from the desk. He dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. 

faeries

okie dokie, lets do faeries v avians

General Culture:

Avians: bird like society, family is very important though each child eventually 'leaves the nest'. Their wing type and personality depends on the bird they are born of.

Faeries: cicada like society, they live in large communities underground and will emerge whenever they wish. They do still buzz like cicadas.

Agriculture: Avians don't often grow food, their diet is very bird-like and depends on their respective species diet. Faeries grow many things and enjoy eating the roots of plants. Every few months, a few emerge to go and gather tree sap which is used in teas and also drank raw.

Names:

Avians: Bird names, often based off of species OR the tree they were born in

Faeries: based off of the tree sap they were fed right after birth but sometimes the first root they ate

Human Relationships: Avians are far more likely to have relationships with humans due to the fact that they adapted to human culture and urbanization. Faeries don't often have relationships with humans because they used to be hunted for their wings since they have magical healing properties.

Communication: Avians use a whistle language in addition to the language spoken in their country or city of origin. Faeries use a buzzing language and don't often speak human languages, though they can learn them very quickly

Assorted Fun Facts:

Faeries are closer to the common groundling and suburbian groundling and thus many groundlings know how to mimic the buzzing language AND faeries know the sign language for better communication

Avians are more likely to fall in love with humans than any other small folk

Faeries do possess some magic, but its beginning to die out

G/T Dialogue for Story Inspiration!!

“That’s it. I’ve had it. In my pocket you go.”

“I can make that jump! You just have to trust me!”

“Little one? No please don’t hide again!”

“Christ- you’re huge. Wait- is that offensive? IM SORRY-“

“Stop moving! I don’t wanna drop you-“

“Cities look entirely different from this point of view…”

“Why are they running? I just wanted friends…”

“See this needle? You do NOT wanna be on the other side of it- big guy!”

“You literally bought me a tiny Remote control car…”

“God you’re adorable! I might just keep you like this- kidding! Unless-“

groundlings

ALRIGHT lets talk groundlings. this is no particular order btw its essentially an infodump BUT BUT BUT. it lays a nice basis.

Groundlings (mostly those who are suburbian or common) do not understand the purpose of human currency. In their societies, trades of labor or other goods are the norm. However, some smaller communities have developed a credit system. Urban groundlings understand the purpose of money and adopted their own form of it, often using something such as buttons or other common things that humans lose. This differs by city.

General Culture:

Common: closely knit to their communities and to other communities of groundlings. They are fighters, and many collect the ribs of small animals, form them into artificial fangs, then store snake venom in them for protection. Many communities also dose their children on poison to make them resistant and also poisionous. Common groundlings are very friendly with other small folk, but can get hostile with humans. they wear clothes made of leaves and furs and do not have verbal slang, but often use certain body language or hand gestures instead

Suburbian: closely knit within their households, which can sometimes hold up to ten groundling families at once. They are the most peaceful of all the small folk, and often try to convince other groundlings of the virtues of humans. they are friendly with the common groundlings and all faeries, but the sprites consider them traitors. they wear clothing made out of human scraps for the most part, but sometimes they make traditional clothing out of leaves and do not use all human slang, but they do use human curse words

Urban: often not in large groups, many times only with their family or even just a friend or two. they use human weapons to fight off others, and are the most hostile to anything that is not human. they wear human clothes and use human slang

Agriculture is the common groundlings best friend. They rely mostly on growing food, as hunting is a struggle. However, there are many common borrower communities that scavenge as well. Scavenging is becoming more and more popular due to the fact it helps the groundlings to gather seeds, better tool building materials, and furs for clothes. Suburbian groundlings still rely on their agriculture, though they also can rely on the human household they inhabit for certain 'human exculsive' foods, essentially anything processed or bought from a store. Urbans rely only on 'human exculsive' foods.

Names are based on the regional differences as well, but here is the naming system simplified.

Common: simple names, often off of animal names or the name of a plant the groundling was born by.

Suburbian: many plant names, oftentimes shorter names. They were the first groundlings with nicknames

Urban: human names, sometimes based off of streets in their city, or even off of restaurant chains or car brands

Human relationships are pretty strained. Common groundlings have little contact with humans, thus causing stories told to children about how they can be monstrous. However, many commom groundlings can take down a human, if they have enough people to fall a giant. Suburbian groundlings are the most likely to develop relationships with humans, mostly because of their living situations and their constant close proximity to the same humans. Urban groundlings are comfortable with being around humans, but don't often form close relationships due to the idea that they are still dangerous.

Communication between two of three groundling groups(common and suburbian) includes a form of sign language that is most often used in dangerous situations

Assorted Fun Facts

despite the fact that there are common groundlings, suburbian groundlings have the most in numbers

common groundlings and urban groundlings are the most likely to have disputes, due to many common groundlings strong connection to their culture

oftentimes, there is regional mixing, though sometimes it causes resentment because of the erasure of culture on either side

every groundling type has a tail and ears that can rotate one hundred eighty degrees for better hearing.

poor eyesight is not very common, but it does occur commonly in urban groundlings

trauma is very common, thus the creation of rehabilitation centers by suburbian borrowers

just a little basic prelude to an upcoming borrower series so the lore can all be kept in one post for both the readers (and my own) convenience.

there are three main types of little folk:

groundlings, which split off into wild aka common, suburbian, and urban. the differences between the wild, suburbian, and urban groundlings are mainly cultural, but they have some minor physical differences as well.

faeries, which split off into avians and normal faeries. the only difference between the two groups is wing type, as avians have bird like wings and faeries have bug wings like that of a cicada or occasionally a dragonfly, depending on the region they are born in

and then sprites, which are their own thing entirely. they often do not have a completely defined physical form, and place curses on humans who get too close to their resting places, often times without the human knowing at all

each type of little folk has its own culture, and between groundlings a sense of culture is a large divider between the regional groups, especially when it comes to wild groundlings and urban groundlings.

as times have gone by, there have been more divides in culture between the avians and the faeries, as most avians adapted to human urbanization, whist faeries did not, instead choosing to stay in their forested homelands.

sprites are dying out, due to the deforestation and continued urbanization by humans. sprites are not very happy about this at all.

(each type will eventually get their own post about how cultures conflict and the regional differences)

Very emotional sizeshifter who doesn’t have full control of their sizeshifting yet: Wow, you never grow or shrink out of control, you must have such good control of your sizeshifting and your emotions!

Non-sizeshifter friend lying about being a sizeshifter: Yep, I sure do! That’s the reason why you’ve never seen me grow or shrink ever!

i havent seen many people talk about this, but i know it from experience so....

Misophonic Tinies !!! (misophonia is when somebody hears a trigger sound, like chewing, or seeing a trigger movement, like finger tapping/knee bouncing, and then experiencing things like extreme anger, panic/anxiety attacks, and the extreme urge to escape. i struggle with this myself and though id love to be around a giant i know this stuff would impact me badly)

explaining misophonia to a giant

never eating with the giant

HEADPHONES. SAVE ME.

flat out walking away bc you can hear the giant breathing

getting frustrated easily during conversation bc I caN HEAR YOU CHEWING THE INSIDE OF YOUR LIP QUIT IT

"you have a bird in your nose." (nose whistling iykyk)

can't lay on giant bc of normal bodily fluid noises

feeling bad bc you can't be around the giant for so long even though you care about them

never hanging out in a quiet space

the "sorry man, not tonight, I was around a dripping faucet all day" and staying on call instead

hands are good, hands don't have sounds AND I can hide in them from all the sounds

"oh my god WHY CAN I HEAR YOUR THROAT CLICKING WHY?????"

I can see. your finger. it's twitching. i can see it out of the corner of my eye please. please.

Yep

Okay seriously. Reblog if you're OLDER than 11.

Yep.

giant tiny sentence starters

1. “please don’t be sick in my pocket.” 

2. “So are you just going to keep me in a jar forever, or…?” 

3. “This is insane! People don’t just shrink!” 

4. “I’m not scared of you, not really. You’re just… big.” 

5. “You’re so small, I’m always worried I’m going to accidentally hurt you.” 

6. “I like being held in your hands. They’re warm and gentle and safe.” 

7. “Please put me down! I don’t like heights!” 

8. “Ha! You can’t get me now! You’re too big to fit in here!” 

9. “I have to admit, finding a tiny person hiding in my _____ was not what I was expecting out of my day.” 

10. “Are you going to be okay? I mean… you’re so small.” 

11. “What are you doing?! You can’t just walk around at your size! What if someone sees you?” 

12. “I know I must seem big and scary to you, but I don’t mean any harm, promise.” 

13. “Wow, you’re big. I mean, I knew you were big, but now that I’m right next to you… you’re really, really big.” 

14. “Do you plan to come out of my pocket any time soon, or do you just live there now?” 

15. “Oh please, you won’t hurt me. You may be big, but you’re also a big softie.” 

16. “”You okay with riding on my shoulder?” 

17. “I don’t care how big you are, I will fight you!” 

18. “Please don’t try to fight someone literally ____ times you’re size.”

Here birdies, come get your breadcrumbs brainrot.

This ones pitifully soft for you guys.

Imagine a sizey dynmamic where they've just gotten used to eachother. My mind immediately goes to human/borrower given some cultural differences that could come into play but really this works with any sizey dynamic.

So the pair has gotten to the point where they're comfortable with touch. The borrower testing their limits, walking on them, sitting on them etc. They find hands especially comfortable with how soft they are.

The human is lounging on a couch, one leg handing off, and the borrower, instead of asking to be lifted up, just does things the borrower way and climbs their pantleg up. They go to walk up to the humans chest to strike up a conversation but fall short as they reach the abdomen.

Oh.

It's soft.

Frankly unless the person is absolutely shredded to the gills, most body types are gonna have at least some softness, especially at that size, so this scenario can fit a myriad of body types.

They, possibly a bit too comfortable with the human, and not at all familiar with what might be a bit awkward, flop down saying something particularly embarrassing like "Oh- you are soft."

Maybe borrowers like softer/heavier frames, maybe due to their small size they don't hold weight very long- but regardless, they don't see the act as intimate or embarrassing (whichever avenue you're heart wants).

Perhaps the human is a bit insecure, or maybe its just something so out of the blue and oddly intimate that they are just flustered to max. They try to move their friend, but now that an area has been put off limits?? Its far more enticing to the borrower, who's now dubbed it their favorite spot.

"Noooo! It's comfy!"

The human is red. Face burning all the way up to the tips of their ears.

When they realizes it flusters their friend?? Even better. They get a little rise out of the way they squirm, not used to feeling like the one that holds all the chips.

YOU GUYS SEE THE VISON?? YOU GUYS PICKING THIS UP???

UGH. Gimme.

best friends

this was inspired by this post bc it gave me the juices and i just had to write something with it...the potential was too great

-------

Nikki and Simon were best friends. Ever since kindergarten, the pair had never been apart. They each completed each other in a way. Nikki had never been all that good at communicating with others, especially not when she was younger. That was mostly caused by a speech impediment, leaving Nikki insecure and afraid that people would make fun of her. Oftentimes, that left Simon to do all the talking, which he was completely happy to do.

"Friends don't let friends be scared," He'd say with a wink whenever Nikki hid from someone new.

But now they were older, and Nikki had grown into a better, more well-adjusted teen. She had eliminated her speech impediment for the most part, and she had grown to be far more comfortable with people other than Simon, even if she didn't know them. Simon, though, hadn't changed. He still acted childishly and foolishly, often not thinking about the consequences of his actions before he did them. He got rougher with the ways he showed affection, always squeezing his hugs a little tight or hurting someone with what was intended as a playful slap on the back. Nikki had heard something about him tackling another person to the ground, but she hoped it wasn't true.

He had all these crazy ideas that usually ended in careless destruction, like her fifteenth birthday when he broke in through the window at six in the morning just so he could be the first to wish her a happy birthday. It was a sweet gesture, but the shards of glass that littered her floor after told a different story.

The worst of it was when Nikki could tell he was feeling bad about something, but when she asked he'd change the subject.

All of that was fine with Nikki, of course. She knew that he was still a good person. He was still a good friend, even if emotions made him run and he was never vulnerable with her. That didn't bother her. It didn't bother her at all.

...

Okay, maybe just a little. But Nikki had gotten closer to finally getting Simon to be real and not just some cartoon facade he put on to make himself seem more fun.

That was, until he found a raygun at a pawnshop and decided he wanted to surprise test it on Nikki.

He had asked her to meet him at their childhood playground, right by the swings they had shared many conversations on. She agreed, and she instantly spotted him when she made it to the park.

"Nikki! I bought something from the pawner!" Simon waved, kicking his legs out on the swing. She stood in front of him.

"What even is that?" She asked, pointing at the raygun.

"I don't know what it does," he admitted, fiddling with it in his hands, "but I was hoping we could test it out together?" He looked at her with a glow in his eyes.

"Okay, sure. I haven't got much else to do." Nikki shrugged.

"Great. Now hold still." He closed one eye and aimed the raygun at her.

"Wait, wha-"

ZAP.

Nikki closed her eyes the minute the bright light had fired, but after a few minutes, she opened them again. The mulch ground of the park now looked far, far bigger than it should have been, and as Nikki's heat began to pound in her chest, she looked up to see Simon squatting over her.

"Wow. Now you're really short." He snickered, setting the raygun down. "There's no way I could've guessed it would do this! This is so cool! Look at how tiny and cute you are!" Nikki's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. How could this have even happened? It wasn't scientifically possible! She was snapped out of her thoughts as the shadow of Simon's hand descended upon her. She yelped, though she didn't scream, and pushed his fingers away. It did almost nothing, as Simon was quick to scoop her up.

She resisted the urge to scream again when he brought her right up close to his face and she saw a scratch on it which only reminded her more of his carelessness.

"S-Simon..." She stuttered, uncaring that her impediment had returned. "Ple-please...put-put me down." Her voice was at a whimper.

"Huh? It's...it's me, Nikki." He sounded nervous, which made her even more nervous. "It's just me-"

"That's-That's exactly the problem!" She yelped, and he pulled his face back a little in shock.

"What...do you mean?" His lower lip twitched, and for a minute Nikki thought she could see his eyes gloss over.

"Simon- you-you're loud! And clumsy! And you hurt people all the time without realizing it! I-I don't want my life in you're hands! Especially- Especially not if you're going to treat it like it's funny that now I'm the size of your finger!" She shakes as she says it, but letting it out makes her feel better. "Just- for once in your life! Treat this seriously!" Simon doesn't look at her, his fingers twitching.

"You know I'd never hurt you," Simon said, biting his lip, "right? You do know that, right?" He still couldn't look at her. Nikki glanced away, thinking about all the times he had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her someplace he thought was cool, the times when she had come home bruised on the back from when he thought something was particularly funny and slapped her on the back. She looked at him and finally recognized the doubt on his face. At least he was taking this seriously.

"You're...scared of me?" Simon finally looked at her, sounding very close to tears. "I know I can be a lot...and I can be careless, but I-I'd...I thought you liked it?" Nikki slumped, feeling gross. "You...I...I can be gentle...with you." Nikki still couldn't look at him, now overcome with the weight of guilt. She felt humiliated and scared and guilty all at the same time.

"God...I'm such a coward," she admitted quietly to herself.

"No, no you're not...I'm the coward. I-I never took anything seriously, and that was wrong-"

"No, I-I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. That was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm just so tired...tired of feeling like you're acting like you're okay when I know you aren't." Nikki sighed in his hand.

"I...Sometimes I feel bad. Like the time I broke your window. But I don't know how to say sorry." Simon admitted, sitting on the ground after setting Nikki down. "I just feel like...maybe sometimes you don't want me around anymore."

"No! That's not true at all!" Nikki was quick to say. "I'd never want you out of my life! You were my first friend! There's no way I wouldn't want you around anymore!"

"You...do you mean that?" Simon asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah. You mean a lot to me."

"Thanks. You, uh, you mean a lot to me too."

Ugh- new brainrot just dropped. I am dying for a shrinking story with some sort of established relationship (be it friendship, pining, or lovers) but just a long established relationship. So when one of them shrinks, the other takes zero care to not be scary, cause why would their friend ever be scared of them?? And to an extent, maybe they aren't. They're not scared of them, but they're scared of the magnification of their traits. The way they've always hugged so tightly, the way they always break their phone, the way they like to push and roughhouse and tease. Their friend has always felt big- but this is so much more.

Their friend doesn't handle the sudden shrinking with care. Perhaps they laugh, or immediately crack a joke. They've always been touchy, but this?? This is overwhelming to an incomprehensible degree.

They push at incoming fingers, nervously trying to keep calm. To hang into some shred of normalcy. Yet, as they're scooped of the ground, that shaky facade crumbles in an instant.

They're begging, pleading. Perhaps even inconsolable. Their friend stares down at their hands, stunned.

"H-hey" their voice is nervous "it's me-"

"That's exactly the problem!"

"W-what?"

They go off. They tell them they're loud, or clumsy, or rough and how they're too much.

Their friend is pale, staring down at the shaking figure with sad eyes.

"You know I'd never hurt you..." but even as they say that, there's doubt on their face- thinking back to all the times they've tackled their friend, or dragged them about, or...

"You're scared of me?" They sound like they're about to cry. They've always been a lot- but their friend was someone that got them- that could handle them...

...but they didn't get them, did they? They'd been putting up with them.

They'd been tolerated.

They've never been soft- never quiet or doting... that's not who they were... but they were still good, right? Still kind? They could be gentle...

The tiny stares up, guilt and shame constricting their chest as they see the hurt plastered all over their friends face. This was painfully humiliating. Their own pitiful ego at fault- Why were they such a coward??

UGH?? LIKE DO YOU GUYS GET IT??? The angst if having to tell someone that you don't trust them at their most vulnerable because they don't act with vulnerability normally? They are kind and fun, but they never really give you proof of that nuturing safety??? And to be told that the person you cherish most is afraid of you?? Not because they're small- no, it's because it's YOU who'd big??

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

Another weirdly specific brainrot is plagging me-

Imagine finding some item at a pawnshap/garage sale/thift shop, Maybe the item is a little figuring, maybe it's a book- whatever it is, the item is fairly small. Upon bringing it home, you start feeling weird. Your head hurts. Thinking it's a migraine, you grab the item and go to head to bed, only-

It yelps.

In a panic you drop it.

It screams.

At first you're quite freaked out, but upon realizing that the item is far more freaked out, you start to calm down. They, whatever it is they are, have been bound to that item, fully aware and conscious- able to feel and perceive, yet completely helpless and unable to do anything. Just an inanimate object. You're the first person that's been able to hear them. They're desperate for your help, though you can tell they're still terrified of you. You're huge to them, and they are quite literally unable to do anything except beg you be gentle.

It's odd, comforting an item, especially one so very terrified of you, but you do your best.

After some time, through conscious actions or random happenstance, you're able to figure out how exactly they're bound to the item- a small binding insignia scrawled on the surface of the item. All you'd need to do is interrupt the lines of ink and they'd be freed, returned to whatever body they came from.

Maybe you've grown close, and the notion of them leaving is sad, maybe the item is absolutely annoying and you're so very excited to get them out of your hair- whatever the case, you do it.

Though things don't work as expected.

They don't return to their body... in that, the item doesn't just go silent as the bound soul zips off to reunite with its body. No- instead, the item glows, taking on a human shape. It grows, but to your horror- it doesn't stop at 6ft. Not 7 or 8.... the once-object-now-person keeps growing beyond the limits of what's humanly possible. Are they 12ft? 20?? 50?? Up to you- but they're clearly far too big to be human, and suddenly, that feeling of powerlessness they once felt is now very unpleasantly relatable.

Is it a magic mishap? Are they from another world? A different species? Perhaps they're dangerous, bound for a specific reason. Are they grateful? Annoyed? Angry???

Adhdjsfjdjd I just think there's so much odd potential from what is essentially a very odd size swap. Lots of potential for both angst and sillys and very unique fearplay, and that combo is my go to happy meal.

misc. g/t writing prompts!

00000000000000000000000000000000

1. “I thought giants were supposed to be scary.”

2. “Get down from there!”

3. “You better watch your step, Godzilla.”

4. “If you grab at me again, I will stab you.”

5. “Your shoe is the size of my car!”

6. “I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.”

7. “Do you… hear that…?”

8. “I’ll catch you, I promise.”

9. “Dude, back off!”

10. “Dammit! Get back here!”

11. “Take a deep breath, it’s okay. I promise.”

12. “You’re… you’re not gonna bite me, right?”

13. “Are you kidding me?! You broke it!”

14. “I hate cats.”

15. “Keep your freakishly giant hands off of me.”

00000000000000000000000000000000

The Date (oneshot)

HI. this is my first writing, i hope the g/t community on here likes it

-----

Sal was not a confident person, they would count themself as far more anxious, in fact. It didn’t help that sometimes they felt as though they had a phobia of Lobians - a newly befriended species that just so happened to be huge. Sal hadn’t even graduated college yet, they were an intern at a company to pay the bills, but they didn’t care much for the work. It would look good on a resume, and that was all that mattered. Lobians were frequent in the office - well not in the office but near it - but Sal never had to talk to them. It wasn’t until they met another paid intern that they first spoke to a Lobian.

“Hi,” he said, a small wave of a hand that could cover Sal like a weighted blanket, “you’re Sal, right?” They looked up from the forms they had been filling out and took a minute just to give him a light nod. “I’m new here - only been working for a few months actually - and my boss told me you’d be the best person to talk to about how to use the copier.” 

“Well, I-I don’t know if you’ll be able to use it,” they began, then realized that if they made this giant angry it could be over for them. “B-but, um, I can copy some things for you, i-if you need.” Sal tapped the papers on the table once, then set them down and stood. The Lobian offered another kind smile and scratched the back of his neck.

“Thank you so much,” he stated, reaching his hand out. Sal flinched and prayed he didn’t notice. He unfurled his fingers - about the size of Sal themself - and in his palm sat a piece of paper, a little wrinkled and wet from the sweat of his palm. Sal offered a nervous smile. 

Little did they know that would be the first of many interactions. Sal eventually learned the Lobians name - it was Ezra. Sal also learned a few other things about Ezra. He was talkative, friendly (at least on the outside), and oblivious as hell. He was denser than a rock. At least Sal knew he’d never get angry over their little flinches or the times Ezra would laugh and Sal would shake for a few moments after that. Still, Ezra scared them, and Sal knew deep down that there was something off about him. Nobody was that happy. 

There was one time, of course, when he slipped that facade. Watching when a man who was several stories tall yells at someone? It’s an experience you don’t forget. It didn’t help that the incident practically confirmed office rumors. People had already begun to claim that Ezra had been violent in the past, that he had anger issues and had only gotten the job because he had intimidated the boss. After the incident, the rumors furthered in severity. The secretary, Jenni, had looked his name up on the internet one time, and an article popped up. Allegedly, when he was sixteen, he had been caught trying to french a human, and then that human was found dead a few days later. Unrelated, the article had said. But Sal didn’t believe it.

“Sal? I had a request, if you aren’t busy.” He poked his head through the balcony window. Sal spun around in their chair, trembling lightly. How could someone so big sneak up on people like that? 

“You, um, you have the floor Ezra.” They noted, sitting on their hands so that they would stop shaking. 

“Would you like to get lunch together?” He asked, his cheeks lightly dusted with red. No. Sal thought. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. They panicked silently with their eyes open and a soft smile on their face. He couldn’t be serious. There was no fucking way. Either way, Sal could not have a choice in the matter. They had seen what happened if Ezra wanted his way - he got it, always.

“Okay,” they practically breathed out the response, their muscles tensing. They flinched when his hand laid down on the balcony. 

“Well, lunch break starts in a couple minutes, you wanna go now?” Sal stared at the hand. They couldn’t take too long in their response, or Ezra might get mad. But even if they said yes, would it be safe to go with him? If he had an unstable past, it surely wasn’t. But, if he had an unstable past, what was stopping him from doing whatever he wanted? So Sal got up from the chair, trembling of course, and sat in his hand. They tried not to look at his face as he blushed again.

Ezra had talked their ear off the whole way there, but Sal hadn’t been listening. They were preoccupied with the fact that they were now on a date with a guy they didn’t like who might’ve had a track record of hurting human partners. They trembled in his hand the whole way to the cushy restaurant, and felt even worse when the giant hostess made a face at them when they walked in. She seated them swiftly, but gave a knowing look to Sal. They’d gotten it before. It was one that meant ‘if you need out of here, just let me know.’ 

“So, I’ve probably bored you with all the nerdy work stuff, what do you want to do outside of filing papers all day?” Ezra asked, still oblivious to Sal’s discomfort. They fiddled with their fingers in their lap.

“I-I’m studying to be a psychologist right now, but, um, I don’t know if that’s what I’m going to go with yet.” They said, using the menu as a shield to hide behind. Ezra looked at his own menu, but continued the conversation.

“That’s really cool, Sal!” He noted loudly, though he changed the subject with a laugh. His laughter was always so unrestrained and loud, but now it felt mocking, which only added to Sal’s discomfort. He smiled playfully, “I know just what you should get. The fish and chips! Ha, I still remember when you told Jenni about how much you hated fish.” Sal’s toes curled inside their shoes and they desperately tried to make themself look smaller. How had he even known about that conversation? He wasn’t even a part of it? Had he just been listening to everything they said? When the waiter finally came, Ezra ordered himself a chicken parmesan sandwich. 

Sal ordered fish and chips. 

“Hey, you know I was just joking, right? You-you didn’t have to order the fish and chips.” Ezra suddenly got quiet and lower to the table. Closer to eye level. His face changed, and for a minute Sal’s brain lied to them about what it meant. It was by no means an angry face, but the sudden shift in Ezra’s mood made them more twitchy. Sal kept quiet, their eyes keeping away from him like the way he looked was poison. “Sal? Are…you okay?” Sal’s gaze snapped up to meet him and they nodded quickly. It was then Ezra caught on. “Oh. Oh no. Not again.” He gasped lightly and sat back up again. Sal tensed and he noticed. “I-I. Sal, you aren’t…no. No. I didn’t- I’m sorry.” He stood up from the table. “I-I’m going to the restroom.” Sal was left alone at the table.

~

He’d done it again. This happened so many times. Ezra would meet someone, mistaken their complacence was kindness, and then think they were way closer than they were. He looked at himself in the mirror of the bathroom, desperately messing with his hair.

“Oh god, no. I-I didn’t mean to-.” He didn’t know how to deal with it, so he just cried. He slumped onto the sinks and cried. Soon enough, someone came to check on him. 

“Hey man, you okay?” It was the waiter that was waiting his table. He looked up at him and sniffled.

“I-I did it again. I th-thought- I didn’t know.” The waiter just looked at him, confused.

“Your date sent me, by the way.” He added, washing his hands. “You might wanna head back out there.” Ezra splashed some water on his face, took in a deep breath, and let out a ragged exhale. When he got back to the table, the food had arrived, but he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Listen, Sal, I am so sorry. I-I thought we were friends, and I didn’t know that you were…” he trailed off, his eyes refreshing with tears again. He slumped on the table, not wanting to look at the little face he had admired. There was a soft touch on his forehead and his head slowly moved up. Sal was standing right in front of his face, shaking, but there.

“N-No. I-I’m sorry, Ezra. I-I should’ve…” It was then he took in their nervous body language and recognised it as the language that had been there the whole time. That first day with the copier, he knew they were nervous then, but he assumed they had never talked to one of his kind before.

“Sal, I-I’m going to quit.” He said quickly and quietly. “I-I’m so sorry I didn’t notice before- oh god, I-I’m so sorry.” Ezra cried softly, mindful of how close Sal was to him. 

“No, no, y-you don't have to do that, i-its okay, really.” Sal tried to assure him, though they were shaking and stuttering. Ezra sighed into the table.

“I…is everyone there afraid of me too?” He asked softly, terrified of the answer.

“Well I-I know Mr. P isn't,” they offered.

“That's the boss, he doesn't count.” Ezra frowned. “I-I’m so sorry. It wasn't supposed to go like this again.” Sal gave him a confused look. “This isn't the first time I fell in love with someone who was afraid of me.” He commented, not really wanting to speak on it further.

“I-Is that what that article was about?” Sal asked themself quietly, probably trying to make it so Ezra couldn't hear them. But he did.

“What article?” He began to sit up. Sal flinched and he clenched his aching fingers.

“Jenni showed us an article, um, about…you.” Sal said, legs shaking. Ezra inhaled sharply.

“Oh. Wh-what was it about, anyway?” He had a hunch, but he needed to hear it from someone else just in case it wasn't what he thought. Sal took a deep breath and backed away, like they were afraid he was going to lash out. His stomach sank, knowing that fear was actually reasonable. He had freaked out at the boss a few weeks ago.

He was interning in HR, and somebody had voiced a complaint about him. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and saving his frustration for later like he typically did in the presence of humans, he expressed his frustration to his boss. Loudly. For a minute he forgot the office was made almost entirely out of windows and he yelled about it. Mr. Picker had told him softly that he could have the rest of the day off, and so Ezra left early that day.

“Um,” Sal's voice brought his attention out of his thoughts. “It was about something that happened when you were sixteen. I-It involved a human who later died and, um, yeah.” Ezra covered his eyes with his hands and began to cry again. “Ezra? I-I’m sorry.”

He was sixteen and in love with a human boy at his school. By now the two had begun dating, and Ezra had thought things were going well, at least, until the police burst in when they were getting very passionate. It turned out that Ezra's boyfriend hadn't been in love with him, in fact he was afraid of him. A few days later, his ex was found dead and he was taken to court over it. It was the most stressful time in his life, and he became more angry as a result. He was tired and scared.

“No, no, i-its partly true. I-I had done what I did to you, b-but it went further than it should have. B-but I didn't kill him.” He said, not looking at Sal at all. There were a few moments of silence between them as he cried. “I-I’m so sorry, it makes sense why you're all so afraid.”

“I'm sorry I judged you so quickly. That was wrong of me.” Sal commented, not able to look at Ezra. “Let's just go back to the office.” Ezra wiped his face.

“I shouldn't carry you right now. I'm sorry.” He said, sniffling. “I shouldn't have taken you out. I should have known better.” His head was laid in his arms and he kept his gaze away from Sal.

“Focusing on the should’ves doesn't help.” Sal said automatically, but then Ezra looked at them and they flinched. “I-I mean from a psychological standpoint.” Ezra laughed breathily.

“I know,” he wiped his eyes, “it's just really easy to.” The pair sat there in silence for a few minutes. “Thank you for not, I don't know, running away or screaming or hiding from me.” Sal gave him an honest soft smile.

“It's the least I could've done.”

Eventually, the two of them made it back to the office and were called in by Mr. Picker. Ezra was fully ready to take the fall, but Sal surprised him when they told their boss about all the ways Ezra was doing well at his job. He almost cried for the third time that day when Sal said they would stake their career on him. He would get to work there, but Mr. Picker was changing his job to be a delivery boy between employees to help prevent the collective fear due to ignorance.